Time Changes Everthing
by Kittywoof88
Summary: * Yaoi * Jamie and Jack* Years have passed and Jamie has grown up. Jack's first believer has lost his faith but events will push the two of them back together. *Warning* This is going to be a long story arc. Danger/angst/romance (Rated M for psychological nasty stuff I MIGHT be putting the characters through later)
1. Chapter 1: The age of not believing

**Chapter 1: The age of not believing**

Jamie frowned as he crossed another day off the calender, '_how have four years gone by in such a rush?'  
_Guilt flashed through him as he pondered how the most important person in his life had slowly faded away, how the fun-filled days he had longed for had somehow become less interesting than grades and parties and dating.  
He walked to the window and looked down at the meagre scattering of fresh snow. _' Was it all a dream? No, it couldn't have been. . .'  
_But he wasn't so sure any more, and that little niggling doubt seemed to push all the certainties away. It was four years since he had seen The Winter and Jamie realized, with a sudden, sickening lurch, that he no longer believed.

* * *

Time passes and here sits Jamie on his parents doorstep. He's taking long drags on a much disapproved-of cigarette and pondering the death of his most recent relationship.  
He'd known it was doomed, they always were, but despite all the hurt he hated to be alone.  
Twenty-three and he had had more relationships than most people had in a life-time.  
Guys, girls – he'd tried everything, their was certainly no lack of willing volunteers – not with his broody good looks and fathomless chocolate eyes.  
But they all went up in flames within a couple of months, he was getting quite a reputation for it.  
Train-wreck Jamie – who cant keep a girl (or guy).  
It wasn't that he didn't try, he just had trouble connecting with other people. A habit of holding back that made partners find him cold and uncaring.  
He didn't do it on purpose either, Jamie desperately wanted to connect, it just never seemed to happen for him as it did for the rest of his friends.  
Increasingly he felt as if there was something wrong with him, something missing that he couldn't put his finger on.  
Sighing, he stubbed out his cigarette and tossed it into the dustbin.  
Snow lay all around and he rubbed his hands together to restore some heat to his exposed fingers.  
_'Stupid cold'_ he cursed, _'I can't believe there was a time when I loved the snow – now I have to freeze to death every time I want a smoke.'  
_Shaking his head, he went inside, deftly avoiding his parents and heading upstairs to bed. He was up early the next day and needed all the sleep he could get.  
Tomorrow, after all, was Easter Sunday.

* * *

He met cupcake in the park at ten past six.  
She waved happily as she saw him trudging over. Putting down the bunting she was untangling, she gave him a quick hug.  
"I was beginning to think you were a no show."  
"A promise is a promise," he yawned "Just had a little trouble getting up – didn't sleep well."  
"Well, you'll sleep well tonight. I plan to keep you busy and distracted all day long."  
"All-right captain," he gave her a jovial salute, "Just show me what to do."  
There followed a very busy hour of bunting, banners and balloons as he and cupcake decorated the park, ready for the Easter celebrations.  
Sitting at a bench to admire their handiwork, cupcake produced a thermos of hot coffee and the old friends warmed their hands on the cups as they watched the first few children run excitedly into the park.  
Jamie felt suddenly lost and melancholy as he looked at the kids, full of innocent hope and wonder, and cupcake too.  
'_How has she managed to keep that side of her safe?' _he wondered, when the cynical and demanding world of adulthood had so completely stripped it from him.  
He yawned expansively and she chuckled.  
"Still tired? You should get to bed earlier."  
He shook his head, "I don't know how you do it," he said " you must have got here hours before me to hide all those eggs."  
"Oh I didn't hide them silly!"  
He frowned, "Then who did?"  
"Bunny of course!"  
"Oh yeah, right, of course . . ." He scoffed, but he was caught off guard by the genuinely sad look on Cupcake's face.  
"What?" he demanded, wondering why he felt so broken and ashamed, "I'm not six."  
Cupcake closed her eyes for a second and sighed.  
"You don't know how much it hurts to hear you talk like this – of all of us I would have thought you would keep your belief. What happened Jamie? You used to be so sure . ."  
"I grew up Cupcake. I don't see why I should be getting such stick for it."  
"But you used to live for snow-days. Don't you remember? Don't you miss hi -"  
"NO!" he shocked himself with his sudden outburst, "No. All that goofing off, fat lot of good that did me. If I'd had more time for school and work rather than spending all my time with some imaginary friend maybe I wouldn't be the Family Disappointment."  
Cupcake nodded sagely, "Well I guess I'll get off your back then. If it's gone it's gone. I'll just have to do the believing for the both of us."  
"Yeah, sure, whatever."  
"Come on then," she said, standing up and pulling him away from the bench, "lets go set up some games for the children."

* * *

A very busy day later and Jamie and Cupcake were once again sat at their bench. They'd just cleared up the last of the decorations and were having a quick chat, and in Jamie's case – a smoke, before heading home.  
Cupcake had just finished updating Jamie about the developments at the primary school where she worked when a sudden smile spread across her face and she leapt from the bench and ran into the middle of the park.  
"You came!" she enthused to a patch of thin air.

"I know, I know. Busy day."

She chuckled, "Well I always have, every year – it's the least I can do."  
Jamie frowned, "Ha ha Cupcake!" He scoffed, "I thought we agreed to let it drop."  
She turned toward him and frowned.  
"No 'fraid not," She said, but she wasn't speaking to Jamie.

"Yeah"

"I know."

"How's he baring up?"  
"Oh, fuck this Cupcake!" Jamie lurched to his feet, "I wish you'd just grow up!" Fuming, he wheeled around and walked away. It was all right to do 'the believer act' in-front of the children but Jack had had enough teasing about imaginary friends from his parents to last a lifetime.  
Pulling his coat tight against the sudden chill he stomped home, his anger giving way to a feeling of sadness and humiliation.

* * *

Spring, summer and autumn perform their yearly dance as the days whirl by.  
Winter closes in and the world turns white.  
Snow swirls and gusts, the wind howls and a door slams. And here is Jamie, stumbling down the icy steps of a posh hotel, hurt and anger written plainly on his face.  
Behind him music, light and laughter leak from the gaps beneath the doors and flash behind the frosted windows.  
_'Stupid, stupid, stupid' _he curses, _'why am I such an idiot?'  
_He slips on the ice as he crosses the car park and nearly falls.  
_'What was I thinking?'  
_He reaches his car and struggles with the lock. Common sense wars briefly with alcohol and anger but quickly submits, the hurt is too fresh. Jamie just wants to escape, to get as far away from the class reunion with his ex's and successful friends, to distance himself from Jamie the train-wreck – who lives with his parents and works in a shop.  
And then he's inside the car and putting his foot down he skids onto the icy road and heads for home.  
Wind buffets the car as laughter echoes in his mind, the wipers struggle with the heavy flurries of snow as Jamie's eyes struggle with the weight of tears, and his foot pushes harder against the accelerator.  
The winter landscape blurs on either side and the headlights can hardly find the road. Jamie's tears spill free and he is blind.  
He takes a hand off the wheel to wipe his eyes and it's at that moment that his car hits the black ice.  
Suddenly he's no longer in control, too upset, too drunk to react in time. He slams his foot on the brakes but the wheels lock and the car slides almost gracefully off the road and into the forest.  
He hardly registers what happens next, the car buckling around him as it crashes into the trees, the sudden stop jerking his head against the window.  
One flash of blinding pain and then he's falling away from the broken car, down a long corridor into darkness and silence.

* * *

Voices call his name. His head throbs with agony so intense he wants to cry out but his body seems beyond his command.  
He levers open his eyes, the effort leaving him nauseous with pain. Body-less faces hover over him against a background of snow. Two he doesn't recognise jabber nonsense at each other in calm steady voices.  
Another, _Cupcake? _Her eyes brimming with tears, calls a name over and over – he thinks it might be his but his mind is muddled and full of pain.  
He squints, bringing a new wave of nausea , someone is beside cupcake. A familiar face, etched with worry. Jamie tries to focus, the effort bringing bile to his mouth but the face seems to waver – there one second, gone the next.  
A name springs to his lips and it seems to Jamie that he must speak it lest he die with it unsaid.  
"J. . . J . . .J . . ."  
The effort brings tears to his eyes.  
"Ja. . ." he manages, but as his consciousness tumbles away, he knows that he has failed.


	2. Chapter 2: Eyes wide open

Chapter Two: Eyes wide open

Jamie was lucky, they said, but it still meant a week in hospital with a severe concussion.  
He was also lucky he had been too injured to breathalize at the scene and that guilty consciences breed alibis. But mostly he was lucky that Cupcake had found him while she was out driving, miles away from home, and that the blizzard had abated to let the ambulance through.  
Here he sits in his room, staring into the mirror at the left side of his head, where an ugly line of purple glue bisects a large patch of closely shaven hair.  
His head aches and his medication sits on the table, the white paper bag unopened.  
Pain seems to focus him, stop his mind wondering about the circumstances of his rescue, erase the stricken face of the pale-skinned, white-haired spirit from his memory.  
Not for the first time in the last few days, a sudden chill sweeps across his room and he squeezes his eyelids tight shut – afraid of seeing and not seeing all at once.  
"No," He mumbles as the cool air settles on his skin, "Your not real. You can't be . . ."  
At that moment the wind outside rises to a loud and mournful crescendo, a keening howl of sorrow and loss that rattles through his room, sweeping the cold away and leaving him alone in his pain and confusion.

* * *

He was woken from his sleep the next day by a furious cupcake, who threatened him with physical harm until he cleaned himself up, ate breakfast and took all the appropriate medication.  
He wanted to shout at her, tell her to leave, but she had saved his life and taken a day off work to make sure he was okay.  
Slowly, as the tablets worked and the pain ebbed, he began to appreciate her company.  
Eventually, as the day began to wain, he swallowed his fear and turned to his friend.  
"How is he?"  
She started, momentarily caught off guard. The pair had been sat in companionable silence for some time now. In fact, she had set herself up at his desk and was marking some badly spelt comprehension tests.

She looked at him, probing his face for clues to his mood, sighing she put down her red pen.  
"He's worried about you, and he misses you too."  
"Can he really be real?"  
She frowned, "He told me where to find you Jamie, he saved your life."  
He put his face in his hands, "But what if I don't want him to be real?"  
"I don't think that's up to you."  
He sucked in a long, shaky breath, taking a moment to compose himself.  
"All these years I've been denying him – trying to catch up with everyone, trying to be a responsible adult," he hung his head, "Trying to make my family proud."  
Cupcake stood and walked to the bed, sitting down she took his hand and waited for Jamie to go on – sensing how important this moment was for him.  
"don't you see? I've failed, I've failed at everything I set out to do. And if, if he's real – I've failed him as well."  
Cupcake shook her head, "He doesn't see it that way and neither do I. What I do see is someone I care about in pain and I can only think of one way to put it right."  
Jamie nodded, "I know. I've got to stop blocking him out. I've got to let myself believe."  
Cupcake smiled a weary smile, "Then lets not waste any time, get dressed, I know exactly what to do."

She took him across town, the destination was no mystery, the frozen pond that the spirit called his home. The place where his old, mortal life had ended and his new existence had begun.  
Walking Jamie to the edge she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.  
"Good luck," she said with a sad smile and, with tears in her eyes, she turned and quickly strode away.  
He stood, still as a stone, his heart hammering in his chest like broken machinery, waiting for his courage to come.  
At last, tentatively, he stepped onto the frozen pond, making his way slowly to the centre. He cast his gaze around but he already knew he was alone. If the spirit existed he was out on his rounds, spreading fun amongst the children of the world.  
"Jack . . ." he mumbled. No response.  
_'this is stupid' _he chided himself, but he would at least make a proper effort, for Cupcake if no-one else.  
"Jack?" it felt good to say his name after so many years, "Jack Frost?"  
A sudden chill swept upon the pond and the air filled with whirling, twirling snowflakes. Pretty frosty pattens arced across the surface of the ice, radiating from a spot six feet in front of the shivering Jamie.  
He squinted at the air before him, a sudden pain in his delicate head making his stomach give a sickening lurch.  
"Nothing," he muttered under his breath, "But he's there! He must be!?"  
Jamie's head spun as he waged a war within himself. A war against doubt, cynicism and depression. Desperately, he tried to remember what it had felt like to be a child. To be full of hope and joy and wonder.  
He tried to picture the winter spirit in his mind but the more he tried to focus the more bleary the image became.  
Exhausted, defeated, his head ringing with pain, he was about to turn away – to turn his back on the winter forever – when a falling snow-flake, purely by chance, settled on his nose.  
Suddenly, just for a moment, he was a child again, standing in a bedroom full of falling snow.  
Seizing the moment, he opened his eyes and the sight before him took his breath away.  
" . . .Jack?!"  
The winter spirit's eyes blue eyes widened, hope flashed across his pale face and he took a tentative step toward his long lost friend.  
"Jamie? Can you . . . Can you see me?"  
Jamie answered by launching himself across the gap between them and pulling the spirit into a firm embrace.  
He was freezing and his head pounded like a drum but it didn't matter. The world was right again, _'Jack Frost is real!'  
_For many minutes they stayed locked together, the slender spirit leeching the warmth from his larger friend, the snow swirling in a vortex around them.  
When Jamie pulled himself away there were tears on both their faces.  
"Jack. I'm so sorry . . ."  
The Winter shook his head, " It doesn't matter Jamie, not any-more." he smiled, and it made Jamie's heart soar. "You can see me!"  
He let out a loud whoop of joyous laughter and leapt into the sky, flinging snowflakes in all directions as he somersaulted over the pond. "He can see me!" He yelled before landing back where he had started with a final flourish of his staff.  
"You have no idea how much I've missed you" He said, and his eyes shone with joy and wonder.

* * *

It was early next morning that Jamie made his unsteady way home. His head was ringing like a bell and he was frozen through but he was happier than he could remember being in a long time.  
_'Jack Frost is real'  
_They had spent the whole night talking, reminiscing about Jamie's childhood and catching up with each others lives – though Jamie had been careful to censor the disappointments of the last few years, not wanting to break the jovial, care-free mood.  
Reaching home, he headed straight for his medication, chancing an extra dose to sooth his frankly apocalyptic headache.  
Whacking the central heating up, he quickly stripped off and dived under the covers, wiggling around until the sheets lost their chill.  
Soon the painkillers kicked in, whisking him away for some much needed shut-eye and dreams of Jack Frost that were about to take an unexpected turn.


	3. Chapter 3: Cold, Hard, Truth

Chapter Three: Cold, hard truth.

Jamie ran his hand through his hair, the right side that remained it's normal scruffy length.  
He stood up and paced a quick circuit of the room, then catching sight of himself in the mirror, stopped and frowned at his somewhat wonky appearance.  
_'Darn it,' _he cursed inwardly, _'Why did this have to happen? As if life wasn't complicated enough in the first place.'  
_The problem, unfortunately, was Jack. Jamie had been so happy this morning. Having his friend back had made the world, which had seemed such a dark and unforgiving place, full of light and laughter again.  
And then he had slept and dreamed, good dreams, but not dreams of childhood fun and frolics with his wintry friend, no his sleeping thoughts had taken down a different road entirely.  
And now, in the waking world he was finding it hard to pull his thoughts away from how Jack's cool, slender body had felt pressed against him on the ice and the silky touch of his hair brushing against his cheek.  
Taking a deep steadying breath he plonked himself down on the bed and endeavoured to clear his thoughts. "Jack is my friend. Just my Friend. Nothing else. Ever. Okay . . . Good."  
He sighed, feeling momentarily better, but his thoughts would not be denied. He found himself absent-mindedly imagining what it would be like to slip his hands up inside Jack's blue hoodie to trace the cool, pale skin beneath.  
"Aarrgh!" he yelled, slumping back onto the covers and pulling a pillow over his face. _'This,'_ He thought, _'Is the last thing I need.'_

* * *

Feeling it was her duty to check up on him, Cupcake popped in after she finished teaching. She freely admitted that she'd snuck back to check on him the night before and was over the moon to have her two friends reunited – especially as she felt that since they had stopped speaking she had been losing them both.  
"It' so good to see you smiling Jamie." She beamed, "I was so worried about you, I knew you missed him."  
He bit his lip and glanced at the wall, ashamed. Taking a deep breath he turned back to his friend. "Cupcake . . ." he began, "I'm really, really sorry for the way I've been lately. I've said some pretty nasty things to you."  
She shrugged, "Water under the bridge. You've been through some stuff. I'm just glad I could help."  
"You've been amazing, really."  
"Thanks. So, when are you two meeting up?"  
"Umm." He took a deep breath, "Tonight I guess. He said he'd be over but, you know, he might be busy."  
She laughed, "It's been eight years Jamie, he'll be here, early, count on it."  
Jamie sighed, he couldn't think of a prospect more exciting and more terrifying than Jack Frost, alone with him, in his bedroom.

* * *

He was sitting on his bed, nerves in tatters when the winter spirit slipped in the open window.  
Once again the sight of him, with his slim athletic body and his flawless ivory skin, sucked the breath from his lungs.  
"Hi," he managed as Jack slid gracefully across the room and sat on the bed beside him, his legs folding neatly beneath him.  
"Hi," the spirit grinned, rocking back and forth with excited energy.  
"You haven't changed," Jamie smiled.  
"Well I still like snowball fights," he joked. "You in?"  
"I can't," he tapped the left side of his head, with it's jagged line of glue, "I'm under house-arrest."  
Jack frowned. "You shouldn't have been out last night then?"  
"Not really."  
"You should have told me," he said, reaching out to place his cool fingers against Jamie's wounded head. Frost winced as he looked more closely at the injury that had nearly cost him his friend.  
"Scare me like that again," he smiled, "and I'll freeze you solid."  
"Okay. Deal" Jamie replied, desperately fighting the urge to press his face against Jack's cool palm.  
Mercifully, the spirit removed the temptation.  
"So, what do you want to do?"  
_'Throw you on the bed and ravish you?' _he thought, but instead went with, "I don't know. I'm open to ideas."  
"We could watch a film, we used to do that – do you remember?"  
"Yeah sure, I'll go grab something from downstairs." He slipped off the bed and went to the door, "Coming with?"  
The spirit grinned and nodded, and together they slipped downstairs to pick out something to watch.

* * *

The next day, well past lunchtime, and a yawning Jamie is sitting in the kitchen in his dressing gown, replacing sleep with copious amounts of coffee.  
_'Four films,'_ he thought, _'lucky I'm still signed off work. . .'  
_He smiled though, it had been a great night, full of laughter and thrills. Jamie had introduced the winter spirit to the scarier films he hadn't been allowed to watch when they were last friends.  
But there's fun in a good fright and Frost had lapped it up and asked for more. Although his staff had been relegated to the window ledge after Jack had inadvertently frosted the TV during Alien.  
Jamie smiled, he'd checked the DVD cabinet and figured that even at four films a night it would be a while before they needed to find something else to do.  
He was tormenting himself ,he knew, he had hardly looked at the screen all night, rather he had taken the opportunity to memorize every inch of the distracted guardian.  
He felt guilty, but only a little, mostly he worried what Jack would think of him if he knew the truth. Their renewed friendship was still fresh and delicate and although Jack was just the same, Jamie knew that he himself had changed virtually beyond recognition.  
He wondered if they would still have a friendship at all once the novelty had worn off, even without this new, awkward complication.  
He knew too that he couldn't lose Jack, not again. This time he would fight for their friendship, even if it meant a life-time of furtive longings and restless dreams.  
The door-bell rang and pushing his thoughts and his coffee aside he got up to answer it.  
"Hey," said a smiling Cupcake, holding up a bag of food, "I brought lunch."  
"Shouldn't you be at the school?" he asked as she pushed past him and marched to the kitchen.  
"I'm on break."  
He sat back down in his chair, "You know, why don't you ask mum if you can use the spare room – then you won't have to go out of your way to check up on me."  
She raised an eyebrow at the sarcasm. "Well if you could be relied on to take care of yourself I wouldn't have to." She sat down opposite and pulled a something out of the bag. "Besides, I nearly lost you. I guess I'm just appreciating your company a bit more than I used to, don't worry it won't last."  
"Hey!"  
She smirked and tossed him a bagel. "Look, you know I love you Jamie, but you drive me up the wall."  
He smiled back, "I know, it's half the fun."  
"So," she said, tucking into her food, "How was your date with Jack."  
"What!"  
"I said, how was you date with Jack? . . Wait, are you blushing?"  
She gaped, "No! . . . Jamie? Seriously?"  
"What? I'm not blushing! I'm just not well, you know, because of my head."  
"Yeah right," she scoffed, " god you're a bad liar."  
_'Damn damn damn damn damn'_ "Okay, yeah, I might just have a little bit of a thing for Jack. What's wrong with that?"  
"What s wr . . ." she began, "Forty eight hours ago you didn't believe he existed and now you want to get in his pants – you're unbelievable. Not to mention he's an immortal winter spirit and the guardian of fun."  
"Yeah don't rub it in or anything," he snapped feeling a bit embarrassed and hurt by Cupcake's frank assessment. "I know it's not ideal! I'm not doing it on purpose, believe me!"  
"I'm sorry," she sighed, " don't take this the wrong way but for the first time in years I finally thought I'd be able to stop worrying about you, and now this!"  
Suddenly the humour of the situation, which had so far escaped him, became apparent to the exasperated Jamie and much to Cupcake's surprise he burst into quiet laughter.  
She smiled and shook her head, "What am I going to do with you Jamie?"  
"Shoot me in the head?"  
"Don't tempt me."

* * *

Spool forward a few hours and Jamie is standing at the front door watching the daylight fade and puffing on a cigarette.  
He's waiting for Jack, bundled in his coat against the cold with his dad's goofy woolly hat pulled down over his partly shaven head.  
A gust of chill wind heralds the spirit's arrival as, with a joyful whoop, he loops the house at chimney height before plunging down and skidding to a halt on the icy path.  
Smiling, Jamie stubs out his cigarette and pulls the guardian in for a friendly hug.  
"And how are you today Jack Frost?" he asked cheerfully, holding him at arms length.  
The spirit beamed happily, "I'm good, How about you? How's your head?"  
He shrugged, "The pain comes and goes, but I think it's getting better."  
"I'm glad."  
There followed a few moments of awkward silence, Jack rocking back on his heels while Jamie slipped his hand inside his hat to scratch his itchy head.  
"Film?" Jack suggested.  
Jamie shook his head. "Let's take a walk, it's a lovely night and I've been cooped up all day."  
"Aren't you supposed to stay inside?"  
"Pffft, won't kill me. Come on," he said, setting off down the path and turning right toward the park.  
Jack quickly followed, jogging to catch up with his tall friends long stride.  
A few minutes passed by in silence as they walked, enjoying the crisp, clear night with it's beautiful blanket of newly emerged stars.  
They soon reached the park and Jamie steered their course over to a snow covered bench. He stooped, using his forearm to sweep the seat clean so he could sit down.  
Slumping a little under the weight of his thoughts, he let out a long, heavy sigh.  
"You okay . . ?" asked The Winter.  
Jamie regarded Jack's honest face, etched with concern and perhaps a hint of nerves. He sighed, "Shall I be honest Jack?"  
Now the guardian looked scared and his heart lurched at the thought that he might upset the kindly spirit, that he might let him down again.  
"I'm scared Jack," he admitted, forcing himself to voice some of his uncertainties. "We can't be the friends we used to be, I've changed too much for that – I know it and you know it. I just want to stop pretending it's gone back to how it was. I've grown up Jack, and I suppose what I want to know is whether you can forget the old Jamie and be friends with this one."  
Jack let out a short, sharp breath, closed his eyes and put his head in his hands.  
It must have been only a second that passed but it lasted a lifetime to Jamie. He just wanted to grab the winter spirit and shake him, anything to make him break the seemingly endless silence.  
And then Jack was looking at him, blue eyes to brown eyes. "Jamie," He started softly, "I'm scared too. You're important to me, and it's not just about you being my first believer. I want to make this work. I'm just glad you're willing to give me another chance."  
"What? What are you talking about?"  
Jack sighed and sat himself down beside Jamie on the bench, "Cupcake told me what you said about me and you're right. I did get in the way of you growing up. I wanted you to stay just the way you were. My friend, my first believer. But you couldn't stay a child forever and I should have realised that. So you see, it's all been my fault," he reached over to pluck the woolly hat from Jamie's head, "even this. ."  
"No Jack." He grabbed Frosts slender wrist and pulled the hat from his grasp. "No. Don't you take the blame for my bad choices, ever, you hear me?"  
The winter spirit gave him a sad, crooked smile, "A fresh start then?" He asked tentatively.  
"Sounds good to me."  
Jamie frowned as a bolt of pain shot through his head, "Uhhn, sorry . . ." He put a hand to his forehead.  
Jack shook his head, "I've kept you out too long," he said sadly.  
"Rubbish, uhhn, it was my idea," he levered himself to his feet, "Come on, walk me home."  
The spirit concurred and they made their way slowly and steadily down the path to home.  
They stopped at the front gate and Jamie pulled Jack into a quick, firm, hug – banishing the pain for a second with Jack's unique snowy scent and the press of his cool, slender body.  
"See you tomorrow?" He asked, stepping away.  
"Of course. Sleep well. Feel better," He commanded.  
Jamie looked down at his friend and managed a pained smile, "Will do. Goodnight Jack."  
"Night Jamie."  
And with that they parted, though Jack waited at the window a while to ensure Jamie got safety to bed.


End file.
